


Stirring Up Trouble

by Lintu



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: First aid is stupid and so is cliffjumper okay, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Ratchet is like first aids over protective mom, but that's not until later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintu/pseuds/Lintu
Summary: Ratchet is tired of Cliffjumper's shit, but he's going to regret it when the minibot starts pining for First Aid.---Tags and such will update as chapters update.





	Stirring Up Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy y'all. This has been stuck in my head for about a week so I hunkered down and typed it all in like 2 shots and got too embarrassed to wait for it to be all one-shot to post it. 
> 
> I promise u this chapter is slow but the good shit I have planned happens next chapter I just needed to lead into it.

"You know, the humans have specialists for this sort of thing." 

First Aid grunted in response, both physically unable and unwilling to respond. It was the third day in a row this had happened, a very unwelcome addition to his morning routine. Ratchet's fingers massaged over First Aid's jaw, failing to ease the tension in First Aid's frame, before forcing it back in place. The sound of metal on metal making a sickening grind as everything came together once again. Optics wide in pain with tears sparking beneath his visor, First Aid gave a test bite, working his jaw open and closed before raising his own hand to massage over his cheek.

"So, three nights in a row you've clenched your jaw so tight it snapped out of place," Ratchet spoke over the run of the sink, quickly rinsing his hands before coming back over. "Are we to just keep it as the elephant in the room, or do you wanna talk about it?"

"You've spent too much time on Earth," Aid deflected, knowing it was fruitless. Ratchet blocked his path to the door, and while he was arguably faster on his feet than Ratchet was in his tender age, Ratchet had one mean throw that had only gotten stronger over the years. An attempt at freedom just wasn't worth it. "But no, there's nothing I wish to discuss."

"Your scans say otherwise, Aid. It's nothing that will kill you, otherwise I'd magnetize you down to the berth, but I'm worried."

"You know lots of mechs would lose large sums of money to find out you have feelings, Ratch'," Deflecting again, Aid tried to inch his way around subtly. "It'd be a shame if I were to go find smokescreen and tell him."

"Tell him what? About how overworked and overstressed your internal systems are? To the point of over heating and mildly swelling no less? I'm sure he'd understand my reasonable concern as a medical professional, and not hold that towards whatever scandalous bet or bets he may have running against me."

Deflating, Aid accepted his defeat and sat back on the patient berth. Pleased, Ratchet closed the door for some veil of privacy. Making himself comfortable and leaning against the side counter, Ratchet waited for First Aid to start talking. Getting nothing but the younger medic kicking his feet off the edge of the bed, Ratchet decided he'd have to be the one to initiate.

"Hot Spot's worried, you know." Ratchet almost immediately regretted playing the gestalt card, seeing Aid's face immediately drop further with guilt. "I mean. All your gestalt is worried, but he came to me specifically. I guess you haven't talked to him either?"

"No, I didn't. Because there's nothing to talk about." Pouting, like an adult and NOT a child, Aid continued to kick his feet off the edge of the medical slab, pronged toe plates far from reaching the ground where he was seated. "I wake up, and my jaw hurts and it can't open. Then I work my shift and I'm nothing but nauseous until about midway through the day. That's it."

Listening, Ratchet nods at Aid to single him to continue talking. When the junior medic doesn't continue, Ratchet sighs again. He came prepared to this battle knowing that he'd have to coax aid on. 

"Is it a work thing? Are you feeling frustrated with your learning? Afraid to tell mean ol' hatchet here I'm giving you too much homework?"

"No! Oh Ratch, no!" First Aid immediately looked up, neck practically snapping to make eye contact. "No, Ratchet, work is great. I feel like I learn so much from you! Besides, work has never made me feel ill before!"

Smiling at Aid's genuine fear of insulting him, Ratchet couldn't help but laugh. "Aid, I'm joking with you. Pulling your leg. But if you did have a work related issue I hope you would come to me."

"But of course, I know I can trust you with anything."

Got 'em.

"Are you having a personal problem then? I know you and your gestalt are so young, are all your protocols running properly? I know sometimes with newer builds the addition of new coding being patched in can cause lots of mixed internal signals," First Aid gave him a dumbfound look, not picking up where he was going with this. "But you say everything is running okay? Your interface protocols aren't coming online when they shouldn't, are they? Because if it's that--"

"No! Primus! No, Ratchet!"

"Listen, all of you are younglings, to me anyways, and it happens! If HIPAA concerns weren't an issue I'd point to at least three mechs in the rec room right now that experienced some sort of embarrassing interface snafu."

"Aaaaah!" Aid clamped his hands over his audios, trying to block out what the other was saying. "Ratchet! I really DO NOT want to know who of our team mates have WHAT interfacing issues more than I need to know!" 

"Look, all I'm saying is, if you're having problems you're not the only one," with that Ratchet figured he'd pressured First Aid enough. While it was fun to make Aid squirm, forcing Aid to talk when he wasn't ready would do neither of them any good. Making his way back to the door, Ratchet turned over shoulder to look at Aid. "And First Aid? If it's a crush, it's okay. Having a crush is okay."

First Aid's stomach twisted further into knots. A crush? No. Absolutely not. Whatever it was that was affecting him was absolutely crushing him physically inside. It wasn't some silly crush, First Aid didn't look that way towards anyone he'd come to know of the crew. This was terrible. Ratchet wasn't listening when he explained that he didn't know why he felt like this, and now he was being treated like some over exaggerating love struck youngling. Fantastic. 

Huffing defensively, First Aid gave a quick rinse on his exposed faceplate before covering his mouth back up. Work wasn't going to stop just because he was having a bad last few days. 

It had all started a week ago. 

Things had been fine for the first half of the morning. Ratchet had gone over First Aid's review assignment, sparking an informative conversation about different types of knee-joints and the best way to approach different injury types. They'd even called a few members of the crew down to get their knee joints calibrated so Aid could get a first hand look at each individual joint and how they bent. 

Eventually the daily injuries and complaints started to trickle in, and while those were both tedious and annoying, First Aid was still in his usual chipper mood. Taking care of the crew was less of a job and more of a passion, it was just discouraging to watch day in and day out how others neglected their personal care. 

Blaster had been hung over, begging for a chip to dampen the sensors behind his optics, complaining that had been casting halos in his vision. First Aid had recommended that he not drink so much knowing he had work the next morning, but supplied one regardless. 

Hound had come in with some dents, ones Aid was more than happy to pop out despite the unfortunate locations they'd been placed. There was a mutual 'ask no questions, tell no details' vibe between them, so rather than pointing out how Hound had missed some of Mirage's paint transfers on his armor, they chatted about some of the plants First Aid had last seen on one of his nature drives. 

Surprising enough, First Aid had even gotten a chance to see Cosmos, excited to catch up with his mini-bot companion as he was only grounded for his yearly checkup. It was always hard to get the little saucer to stop by, especially when his time on two feet was extremely limited, but First Aid had promised to make it up to him with a round of engex on his next visit. 

No sooner than when First Aid had been waving Cosmos on his way out, Ratchet had started yelling.

"No, no, no! I've had it!"

Well THAT didn't sound good. Being his usual curious self, First Aid turned away from Cosmos to see Ratchet tense with his arms crossed high along his chest.

"You can't just leave me like this!"

"Yes I can! You're not injured up from battle, you're damaged from your own bad decisions and I'm tired of day-in and day-out welding your aft back together."

First Aid couldn't get a good look at what the damage exactly WAS, but he'd been working the medbay long enough to know that voice. Residential minibot, and team spitfire himself, it was Cliffjumper. It hadn't been long before Cliffjumper started a routine of being in and out of the medbay every week or so for starting, or worsening, fights. Which as was remarkable on its own, First Aid was mostly impressed that Cliffjumper never quit when he put his mind to something. On the other hand, First Aid could also relate to how annoyed Ratchet felt repairing him over and over. It never felt rewarding to see your job well done come in mangled the next day.

Sensing that the tension would only continue to rise if there was no interruption, First Aid decided to throw himself metaphorically in between to be the lightning rod for both of their storms. "Ratchet, I don't really understand what's happening, but why don't you let me take this one? I can call or page you if I need assistance?"

Grumbling beneath his breath, Ratchet forfeited his space at Cliffjumpers bedside, cranky bedside manner lifting along with him as First Aid took the seat. 

"Get used to welding his sorry aft back together every other day." Ratchet snapped before crossing the medbay to his office. If sliding doors could slam, Aid was sure that Ratchet would have done so. 

Sighing in relief to have broke some of the tension, First Aid now had a berth of damaged minibot to fix up.

"I don't know how you can work with 'Hatchet." Cliff grumbled under his breath, trying this best to cross both arms. "Real customer service he's got."

"Ratchet can be nice when he wants to be," First Aid's tone took to the same delicate way he had begone to tweeze some of the wires in Cliffjumper's leg. The damage was overall not as bad as Ratchet had made it out to be, sure. Cliff had some damages to his shin casing which would be a pain to buff out and some disconnected wires that would need a little tender loving care, but everything else was minimal surface damages. "He's just worried about you."

Snorting, Cliff gave Aid a googly eyed look. "Worried? Ha!" With a little pinch from Aid's tweezers Cliff immediately straightened, posture stiff as he was no doubt holding back a string of curses. 

"Ratchet might be," First Aid looked over shoulder to check that Ratchet hadn't snuck out of his office. "He might be a little 'emotionally constipated', but he does worry. He and I both do. It's hard not to worry about everyone, not when you're all getting shot at and throwing yourselves right into the line of danger."

They both shared a thoughtful silence while First Aid continued on to fix the wires, soldering the last connective pieces back in place. Soon enough with a quick pop, Aid had Cliff's shin casing in hand, ready to move on along with the repair

"Do you want anything?"

"Huh?"

"Like, do you want anything? A cube? Another pillow? You're gonna be sitting there just watching me buff your shin plate for a bit, I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable."

The look of confusion on Cliffjumper's face at First Aid's request spoke volumes. Not waiting for an answer, First Aid got him a cube, he'd figured the minibot might not have even had a chance to fuel today before getting wrapped up in whatever caused his injury. He'd left it on the table besides the bed, leaving it up to Cliffjumper if he wanted it or not.

Without a thank you on Cliffjumper's end, First Aid was hardly offended. Sitting a good 10 feet away at one of the workstations, Aid began to set himself up with the essentials. Falling into a comfortable silence, First Aid's radio soon filled the medbay, creating an unique atmosphere of music muffled under the sound of dents being pinged out. It was something Cliffjumper had never experienced, leaving him to awkwardly hold the offered cube between his hands and focus on his surroundings rather than the inner workings of his mind for a moment.

Once Aid was no longer paying him mind and fully focused on the task at hand, Cliff was quick to finish off the cube that was left for him. He'd never give thanks, especially when he hadnt asked for the energon in the first place, but it really had hit the spot. Placing the empty cube on the stand besides the berth, Cliffjumper lied on his side so he might pretend to catch a nap all while watching First Aid work. Surly the medic wouldn't suspect anything of him curling up, not with how comforting the medbay soon became void of Ratchet's presence. 

Cliffjumper hardly knew much about the junior medic. Mostly that Ratchet kept First Aid on a short leash, with high expectations, and that it was a safe bet to assume that First Aid was among the youngest of the crew. Still, that wasn't much info to go based off of and Cliffjumper figured observing how First Aid acted when he suspected nobody was watching would be a good indicator of his true nature. It wasn't like there was much abundance of gossip to go off of either. Cozying up on his side, Cliff gave an less than exaggerated yawn to really sink home the illusion that he'd be just another lump on the berth. 

It was far from abnormal to hear Earth media on the Ark. Teletran was great at picking up the humans cable channels, not to mention one could only get so far without hearing Blaster or Jazz playing Earth music. Still, it was a completely different experience to hear the muffled vocals out of a far-too-small, non-decepticon, radio on Aid's bench than to hear Blaster's karaoke take of whatever song of the week he and Jazz were fixated on. Their duets left much to be desired and had turned the minibot off from searching further into the world of music. But this was, dare he say, calming, if not almost enjoyable. 

'When your world is full of strange arrangements, and gravity won't pull you through.'

Finding it amusing how despite the static and the low volume, Aid would sing to himself beneath his breath as he continued to work. His kateoke take wasn't far off from Blasters, but there was a specific charm to hearing someone sing when they don't think you're listening versus to sing loud and proud for all to hear. The unmistakeable tap of his toes adding to the beat, a metronome contrasting the clink and clang of Cliff's armor being shuffled and rotated on the desk. 

'You know you're missing out on something, well that something depends on you.'

At this point Ratchet had come out of his office, mug in hand, mostly to check on First Aid's troubled patient. That hardly hindered Aid from singing, if anything the smaller medic pretended like Ratchet wasn't even there as he took a quick lookover Cliffjumper. Huffing a little grunt at the 'napping' minibot, Ratchet came over by Aid's side, broad back blocking Cliffjumper's view of First Aid from where he'd been peaking out from beneath his arm. At this point Aid had stopped singing and toe tapping, but still continued on without giving much attention to Ratchet. 

Neither First Aid or Ratchet truly believed Cliffjumper was asleep, it was best to just let him be and to give Cliff the false security that he was invisible. There was nothing either of them had to say that they wouldn't speak in front of Cliff anyways. 

"How's the little devil been?"

"Ratch, he's not that bad. C'mon now. Go a little easier on him."

"Oh, you'll see soon enough. I'm telling ya, he'll be back here tomorrow and you'll be picking shrapnel out of his aft."

Making a non committal noise, mostly tired of Ratchet and not wanting to feed into it further, Aid turned back to work and let Ratchet hover and inspect his work all while the radio continued to play.

"Ratch, we on for drinks tonight?"

"No, sorry First Aid. I actually have pre-established plans. Maybe end of week?"

"You? Plans? Pfftt you have no friends, how could you possibly have friends."

The two continued to quip back and forth, playfully dragging the other with the security of knowing neither's feelings were truly hurt. If left Cliffjumper feeling more akin to Mirage, wondering if this was how it felt under cover in the depths of the decepticon base. Hopefully the Decepticons had something better to discuss, or maybe they'd just straight up gossip. 

Yawning, Cliffjumper was drifting. Drifting into the most comfortable recharge of the century. Little did Cliff know that First Aid had noticed his slip, quick to shoot Ratchet a smug grin. After a quick 'yeah, yeah' from Ratchet, the only admittance of 'you were right and I was wrong' that Ratchet would give, First Aid came around Cliffjumper's bedside to replace the shin plate and to then tuck him in. 

First Aid was long gone by time Cliffjumper had woken, but he'd known it wasn't Ratchet who had tucked him in so tenderly. It left him feeling a certain kind of way, anger and confusion bubbling up in his throat. With that he was quick to exit the medbay, unwilling to deal with this new level of disgust. 

First Aid was a tender sap, and as much as Cliffjumper wanted to hate him for being so soft all he wanted was to see him again. 

Terrible.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u for taking the time to make it this far! Comments are always appreciated, and motivate my to update faster. I'm like. Still branching out with writing and especially characters I write for so this was really fun (even if it's only Bc I'm excited about what's to come next).


End file.
